[Characters] The Hunters

[Togot]

post your apps with links to your character sheets here

[Azathool]

Azathool's Application Name: Spyder Race: Dhampir (GH:Wechselkind - Human) Class and subclass: Sorlock: L1 Sorcerer: (GH:Haunted) L2: Warlock (GH:The Parasite) Stats: Point Buy (8/15(+1)/14/10/8/15(+2)) | Item: Rod of the Pact Keeper +1 Background: Haunted One 2 personality traits: I don’t run from evil. Evil runs from me. / I don’t talk about the thing that torments me. I’d rather not burden others with my curse. Ideal: I have a dark calling that puts me above the law. Bond: A terrible guilt consumes me. I hope that I can find redemption through my actions. Flaw: I have an addiction. Appearance Created with DALL-E Spyder being ;at least his soul, the body copy and subsequent flesh re-growthtechnically human understands that to live amongst civilized people one must be civilized. So in the safe places of the world, he cleans himself up, stands upright, walks on the floor and tries his best to be somewhat human(oid). Barely two feet tall and fifteen pounds in weight, Spyder's growth was halted when his mortal form was swapped for the Wechselkind, now grown over with flesh to approximate the size of a human toddler, gnome, or halfling. A dark cloak is usually pulled over his form else he has little of note. He wears no armour and carries no weapons, although you will sometimes see him holding a short metal rod. Come the time for hunting and Spyder becomes… less civilized. While still of the same mind, his body alters; legs and arms stick out akimbo, and hands and feet clawed, allowing him to climb almost any surface. Climbing upside down on ceilings he looks more like a huge spider… hence his name. Depending on the situation he can modify several of his features; lengthening his legs, hardening his skin, enlarging his eyes or several other "enhancements". Fanged teeth help with the consumption of his food… flesh, preferably raw, and when possible humanoid. He wields magic surreptitiously when needed. Backstory: Backstory   Include why you became a hunter In other planes of existence, the names Pinocchio and Chucky would come to mind, in this world it was not the same friendly-nosed mannequin wanting to be human or a psychopathic knife-wielding doll. The day the human couple discovered their child had been replaced by the Wechselkind was the day "life" as he knew it changed. Rather than casting it out or killing it, they decided to cure it, for both were practitioners of dark magic. In their desperation to bring their child back from the "The Faeriesother realm" his parents went beyond a normal mortal's reach and linked their child's soul to another beings thread, one from another place, a parasite willing to return a soul but at a cost. A life for a life, so his mother's flesh became his, consumed at the direction of the parasitic seed implanted into the doll, his soul returned and his mother's soul became linked to his as he consumed her body in a ravenous frenzy. And so a Dhampir was born, neither human nor Wechselkind, but the skeletal frame of wood and metal wrapped in the flesh of those it consumes. Warped by the parasitic lava inside him to "Warlock: The Parasite: Physical Specimenimprove the body", a thirst for flesh was born. His father raised the thing-child as best he could, imparting usual moral concepts and ethical norms, but such a warped and mutated being struggled to fit fully within the realm of normal mortals, and whilst not becoming evil, Spyder grew to recognize he had an insatiable hunger. The way to fulfill the craving without becoming a target himself was to hunt the world for other horrors, such that he could live by the hunts rewards. His Sorcerer: Hauntedmothers soul haunts him still, appearing as a phantom to aid him in dangerous times.

[MontageManiac]

Application Generated on Midjourney Name: Ryven Platinyrse Race: Half-Elf Class and subclass: Kensei Monk (level 3) Background: Inheritor Inherited item: Barrier tattoo uncommon (12 + Dexterity) 2 Personality Traits: I have a strong sense of fair play and always try to find the most equitable solution to arguments. I’m confident in my own abilities and do what I can to instill confidence in others. Ideal: Respect. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. (Good) Bond: I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again. Flaw: The people who knew me when I was young know my shameful secret, so I can never go home again. Appearance: Tall and lean, elongated ears, long silver hair, and cold blue eyes distinguish the elven heritage of Ryven, just as the built taught muscles and broad shoulders speak to his human ancestry. Wearing simple well-made traveling clothes, and adorned in an intricate tattoo that seems to cover most of his skin, Ryven is a friendly man who everyone enjoys being around and doesn’t threaten the smart-types with much nonsense. Backstory: Ryven has only known a nomad's life. Like many of his kind, a half-elf's life is on the road, and he was a 1st generation half-elf. His father was Balrik Platinhort, a master smith hailing from Unterland, of a caliber that only a few elite warriors of some of Unterland's most famous houses were aware of his craftsmanship, and paid handsomely for it, if they could find him in later years. Ryven's mother was Elenion Urtylsen’yrse, and she was part of a secretive clan of Elves who practiced the art of magic originating in the land known as Nordenland long before the Empire's expansion took it for themselves. The union between Balrik and Elenion was in no way sanctioned and very much seen as a violation of both their people's traditions and desires. Elenion appreciated the artistry of Balrik's craftsmanship, and Balrik couldn't help but fall in love with Elenion's passion for her craft and the long history and tradition it embodied. They eloped and became a traveling pair of artisans, living humbly on the road, but for anyone exhibiting worthy character or an obscene financial contribution would find themselves the patrons of two of the greatest craftspeople in the North-West of the Empire. Upon Ryven's 13th birthday, his mother deemed it time for an ancestral gift to be given to the young half-elf, the sacred and secret ancestral tattoo passed from one generation of Platinherz to the next, and the technique to make it manifest its arcane powers. His father would play the crucial role of co-designer for the tattoo, insuring that it would evolve with each generation and be instilled with new and radical developments that would keep the technique as living and fluid as any living thing of Etharis, perhaps the last type of progressive endeavor in a world of death and decay. What should have been a celebration turned into a tragedy. For a few years, they stayed in the village of Faldor's Rest, a town nestled between the borderlands of Nordenland and Unterland. Faldor's Rest was a transient village known for hosting nomadic families and travelers. A place of cultural exchange and trade, where people from different regions came together briefly before moving on. The town was a melting pot of cultural exchange. Something went terribly wrong, however, during the ceremony, and it was interrupted by a group of men in black cloaks with silver-embroidered symbols of a cloaked skull wielding a scythe, led by an elf who looked passingly similar to Ryven's mother. The elf killed his mother before Ryven could react, and then the mercenary company commander killed his father in combat as they both crossed swords, and Balrik was distracted by his wife's death. An arrow struck Ryven in the shoulder as he fell to the ground, and dangerous creatures were loosed on the village by the mercenary company, summoning them from the void somehow, and Ryven was left for dead in the cabin he lived in with his parents, fire falling all around him. Ryven quickly pulled himself into the root cellar to hide and passed out from the pain. In the morning, when he could feel the cold earth beneath his body, he rose and pushed through the wreckage to discover the entire town was razed to the ground. Digging through the cabin they once called home, Ryven found both his parents, charred beyond recognition, but then picked up the crafting tools and journals of Ryven's parents, so that he might carry on their legacy, including his father's sword, Finstyrschlak. Orphaned and the only survivor of Faldor's Calamity, as it began to be called, Ryven traveled to Unterland's capital to join the military, but with an introduction letter of the son of Lord General Vassily Roemer, the patron of his father, Ryven managed to get some of the top tutors in warfare and strategy. For two years he was on the front lines in the Campaign battles against Ostoya's undead armies and fought with distinction for the most part until he completed his tour and sought his path to fight the dangerous creatures of the land as a Monster Hunter. Constantly on the lookout for the cloaked figures who killed his parents and destroyed Faldor's Rest. He determined through his father and mother's journals that the parts from monsters could be scavenged and used in the creation of weaponry, advancing the weapons if crafted in a certain way, such as his father did for Finstyrschlak, and also could be used in the tattoo process his mother was trained in. He would complete the ancestral tattoo on his body; he would become a master smith like his father, and he would seek vengeance on the entire mercenary company that killed his parents, and the elven man who must have been related to his mother, for taking them all away from him, and the town who sheltered and made them feel at home for those few years before Ryven and his family brought death to their doorstep. Becoming a Monster Hunter: In Ryven's question to increase his abilities as a craftsman, he uncovered some dark secrets about his mother's magical arts. He believes his family's betrayal was intricately linked to the dark magical practices that were involved in the tattooing procedure, and that it was beyond just taboo that his mother was gifting him the benefits of the tattoo... it was an actual risk to the political power of his mother's secretive clan. Feeling a great deal of guilt over his family's involvement in the destruction of Faldor's Rest at the hands of not only the mercenaries but the malevolent creatures they unleashed, Ryven left the military after two years and dedicated himself to understanding and combating the magical creatures that plagued the borderlands between Nordenland and Unterland. He honed his combat skills, combining his father's craftsmanship with his mother's magical knowledge to create weapons specifically designed for monster hunting. Despite his mother's family nearly eradicating his family, he saw himself as the guardian of the legacy both of them left to him and aimed to redeem their name by protecting others from the same fate that befell Faldor's Rest. Heading to Black Hold: Rumors reached Ryven of Black Hold, a town facing a mysterious threat that echoed the dark magic he encountered during his quest for vengeance. The town sought aid from skilled individuals willing to face the supernatural. Drawn by a sense of duty and a suspicion that the malevolent forces he encountered might be connected, Ryven recognized a pattern in the occurrences reported in Black Hold. The modus operandi of the creatures and the type of magic involved hinted at a familiarity that compelled him to investigate further. Black Hold's plea for aid resonated with Ryven's desire to prevent others from suffering the same fate as Faldor's Rest. He saw an opportunity to not only hone his skills further but also to confront the remnants of the dark forces that had plagued his past. Legends spoke of a mystical site near Black Hold where ancient magic lingered. Ryven believed that this location might hold the key to completing his ancestral tattoo, an essential step in unlocking hidden potential against the malevolent forces. Answering Black Hold's call wasn't just about fighting monsters; it was a chance for Ryven to achieve redemption for his family's legacy, gain closure for the tragedies of Faldor's Rest, and fulfill the destiny he felt bound to since the interruption of his ancestral tattoo.

[Remorazz]

Kantz Name: Kantz Nullman Race: Human Class: Inquisition Cleric Background: Lapsed Inquisitor personality traits: “Whatever I believe to be true at the moment is the only truth” “I believe my enemies await for me around every corner” Ideal: children are the only ones who can make the world right Bond: My old mentor still holds an important place in my heart flaw: I still exhibit some of the fear and hatred that led me in my previous profession Appearance: Kantz is a bit taller than average and has a bigger chest than his arms would let you suggest, but the real look of authority comes from his icy, inscrutable stare. His long, flat face could be carved in stone. It's not that he doesn't know how to laugh, it's just that he doesn't like sin, chaos and vulgarity, so it's rare to see him smile. Backstory: Coming from a merchant family, Kantz didn't have much time to learn the trade. When he was a child, travelling with his parents from Altenheim, their caravan was ambushed at night by a swarm of zombies, only the presence of a priest inquisitor made it so that some of the caravan made it out alive. The priest, a Dwarf name Guldar Erlagh, led the people in Rauland, in his city of Stehlenwald, There, he took in the human child under his tutelage in the church of Solyma, so that the young Kantz would have a house an education. Kantz did very well for himself, he was always a bright boy, but with his hate of unnatural things it's like he was made for the church inquisitors. Recommended by Guldar, he became the youngest human to be put in the field. Solyma's inquisitors act in teams of three, so that everyone can be kept in check by the other two for any sign of moral corruption. But what happened in Kantz case is unfortunately the norm across the multiverse: their zeal and the power-trip slowly corrupted them together, doing as much damage as the evils they were flushing out. As he understood how wrong his methods were, Inquisitor Nullman relegated himself in Solyma's temple, meditating how everything he based his life on was not black and white, but a dark shade of gray. Under Guldar's suggestion, Kantz left his position in the Inquisitors, but keeping his religious role in the church, so that he could still go in the world and follow his calling of cleansing the world, but without the authority to burn people alive in the process.

Stats Kantz

[Seekr34]

Ingvar Character Sheet: https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=93705 Name: Ingvar Race: The Downcast Class and subclass: Paladin - Oath of the Watchers Background: Soldier 2 Personality Traits: 1.) I’m haunted by memories o f war. I can’t get the images of violence out of my mind. 2.) I’ve lost too many friends, and I’m slow to make new ones. Ideal: Greater Good. Our lot is to lay down our lives in defense of others. (Good) Bond: I’ll never forget the crushing defeat my company suffered or the enemies who dealt it. Flaw:The monstrous enemy we faced in battle still leaves me quivering with fear. Appearance: Standing at 6 foot even, he is of medium build, clean shaven, long wavy light brown hair down to his shoulders with brown eyes to match. Protected by a chain mail and shield, armed with a longsword, a dagger sheathed at his right thigh, and a bow at his back. He appears a very handsome young man, more so than most humans. However, at a closer look at the man, folks would see his glowing eyes. When exposed, faint markings on his skin mimic Celestial runes. He moves with confidence, although he seems to be watching over his shoulder on occasion, as if he is being followed or watched. Backstory (include why you became a hunter): Before the god-war, Unvar the angel follows his diety and goes on varies mission in the name of Galtian. However, afterwards, where gods had lost and all but disappeared, he and most of his fellows fell from grace, losing their powers, except for the Arch Seraphs were the most powerful lieutenants. While they carried the burden of their deities, the lesser angels, including Ingvar, fell. Their numbers decreased once they arrived, due to a great number of them succumbing to despair, feeling lost and powerless. Of those that remained, some had, with hope, still tried to serve the Arch Seraphs hoping to reclaim what they had lost. Some felt embittered by their fall, had been accepted by the Arch Demons to spread fear and destruction. The rest, like Ingvar, have turned to seek their own goals, fully embracing mortal life. This was a mere 20 years ago, after a few years of running and hiding from those that wants to suck the rest of what little power he has left, he tried to help those in need, but it was nearly impossible. He was a mortal now, with no real power, so he had entered the Bürach Empire and traveled eastward to Unterland, to the capital of Olstenberg and took up training to be a paladin. Because of the missing gods, the clerics and paladins had become rare. Ingvar was determined to forge ahead and do his best. The people needed help and it was his job, just because he lost his immortal powers, it was not a reason for him to give up. To give up hope means death. He had become a paladin, swore an oath, but he still had much to learn. It was on his 100th birthday that he was summoned by the lord of Black Hold to his town in the province of Unterland, which was close by the capital. He had been promised gold, and possibly a home should he succeed in solving whatever issue is currently plaguing his people. Ingvar had guessed that the Lord wanted Hunters. Here was a chance for him to help the people, give them hope. It will not be easy, he knew that, but as always, he was determined to do his best.

[GleefulNihilism]

Otto Name: Otto-of-Dreams Race: Dreamer Class: Wizard (Diviner) Background: Sage Personality Trait 1: Have we met before? Sorry, my mind's relationship with Space and Time is ... Complicated. Personality Trait 2: Rare is the problem that isn't improved by sleeping on it. Ideal: If you want a better world, first you have to Dream it can be better. Bond: I’ve been searching my whole life for the answer to questions about my people, like what our species is actually called. Flaw: Like every other member of the Dreamer species, Otto's ability to distinguish between his Dreams and his Memories has been severly weakened and in some cases outright destroyed.

Appearance You can tell just by looking at him that Otto-of-Dreams isn't any normal species. With white hair, slate-grey skin, yellow eyes, and a series of small bony petrusions just poking through or just under his skin, he's clearly not any sort of human or elf or anything of the sort. A member of a species that rose and fell from prominence thousands of years ago, not even the elves remember their true name. The problem is neither do they and the whole species carries a look in their eyes like they're all suffering from some sort of low-grade amnesia or confusion at all times. Because in a way they are. He dresses in concealing robes with hoods, mostly because he thinks it's wise to not quite advertize how inhuman he really is. His eyes have been reported to start glowing like pale moons while casting some spells.

Backstory They say History repeats itself, or at least has a tendency to strongly rhyme. The Dream-Logic of it all cycles, and here we are again. From what can be determined, at some point thousands of years ago - before the rise of Men, Elf, and Dwarf - there was a great Empire seated where the Dwarves of Stehlenwald live today. Nobody knows what this Empire was called, what the masters were called, whether they were teachers or tyrants, nothing. All that's known for sure is that some sort of Apolocylptic Calamity struck this Empire and hit it hard enough to wipe away most traces of it. Something so horrible that a group of the citizens only managed to survive by building underground vaults and voluntarily putting themselves into a deep, magical suspending slumber that was recently accidentally found by dwarven miners. The theory is that the Dreamers were prepared to sleep in relative safety for a few decades, maybe a century, but something went wrong with the timing of events and instead they continued sleeping for millenia under the mountain. When the survivors finally awoke they discovered that they could no longer distinguish between their memories and their dreams creating a sort of bizarre species-wide amnesia. It's not that none of them can recall the name of their Species or Empire, it's that they all remember different answers for those questions and there's no way to tell who might be correct. The result was the emergence of a new race with no knowledge of their own history, only half-formed images and dream-like impressions of a place and time that may or may not have existed. But the Dreamers have proven to be a quick-witted and strong people with a few tricks up their sleeves. Otto-of-Dreams might be a Dreamer with a particularly difficult time distingishing between his Memories and his Dreams, but he's also particularly intelligent even by Dreamer standards. When the Dreamers began discovering that their Great Sleep had changed them, he instead took to studying the intersection of Dreams and the Arcane where he's learning Oirenomancy - the Art of Divination via Dreams - at a shockingly fast pace. And they're studies well placed it seems, as his the new knack of his species for Dreamwalking is going further and further out. And it might not be as bound to normal rules of Space and Time as his body is. Sometimes he even catches glimpses of things. Things like portents of future events, or peaks into the dreams nearby of intelligent undead. He didn't actually set out to become a Hunter, but he is looking for Secrets and Knowledge that were buried a long time ago and other Hunters have begun seeing him as a Good Luck Charm. Maybe Otto-of-Dreams doesn't belong on the front lines, but it might be handy to have someone along who can see things coming...

[Drachenspirit]

Nyana Miaven - Elven Barbarian Name: Nyana Miaven < -------- Character Sheet Link Race: Wood Elf Class and subclass: Barbarian - Path of Wild Magic Background: Folk Hero - Known as "The War Maiden of Myvehone." 2 personality traits: - Thinking is for other people. I prefer action. - I get bored easily. When am I going to get on with my destiny? Ideal: There is no good in pretending to be something I am not. Bond: I protect those who cannot protect themselves. flaw: Secretly, I believe that things would be better if I were a tyrant lording over the land. Appearance: Nyana stands an inch over 6 feet and though she isn't overly tall for an elf, her frame and size are a bit larger and she weighs a bit over one hundred and sixty pounds. Her skin has a slight copper hue that matches her light blond to copper colored hair. One Hazel eye and one brown eye look out from a serious face while tattoos adorn her arms and back. She carries only a shield for protection and other weapons fitting a Wild, barbarous elf from the far reaches of Nordenland.   Nyana ACTIONS & STATS Nyana Miaven<------ Character Sheet Move: Action: Reaction: Conditions: Concentrating: OOC info: AC: 18 || HP: 32/32 || Saves: St +5, Dx+3, Cn+4, In+1, Ws+2, Ch-1 Held: Longsword, Shield || Back: Warhammer, Javelin Longsword: +5 to hit, 1d18+3 dmg (1d10+3 if two hands) || Warmammer: +5 to hit, 1d8+3 dmg (1d10+3 if two hands) || Javelin: +5, 1d6+3 dmg Skills: Athletics, Wood Carver’s Tools +5 || Animal Handling, Perception, Survival, Land Vehicles +4 || Acrobatics, Nature, Sleight of Hand, Stealth +3 || Insight, Medicine +2 || Arcana, History, Investigation, Religion +1 Special Abilities: 60'Darkvision ADV on saves vs Charm, and magic can't put to sleep Fey Ancestry 35’ speedFleet of Foot can attempt to hide even when you are only lightly obscured by foliage, heavy rain, falling snow, mist, and other natural phenomena.Mask of the Wild 3 x per day, +2 damage to attacks, bonus action, ADV on str cks and saves, Str attack gets rage bonus, Resistant to Bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage, 1 minute, no spells cast while raging Rage AC = 10+ DEX + CON + modifier w/ shieldUnarmored Defense ADV on 1st attack w/ str, foes have adv until next turn Reckless Attack ADV on dex saves against seen effects if not blind, deaf, or incapacitated Danger Sense Action, know location of spell or magic item w/60' if not total cover, and know which school it belongs to, 2 x a day Magic Awareness The magical energy roiling inside you sometimes erupts from you. When you enter your rage, roll on the Wild Magic table – Tasha’s pg 26 - to determine the magical effect produced. If the effect requires a saving throw, DC 12. Wild Surge Backstory:   She was one of the first who regained a sense of the long lost Fey magic of her people. It was more than knowing of it, she felt it, whether from a magical effect in place, an infused item, or a spell that had been cast, if it was close enough to her, she instantly knew where it was unless it was completely covered or hidden. It was like a beacon of light to her soul, much like a lighthouse to a ship at sea. It was odd though; odd because she was no mage, no caster, or priestly type - not that her small enclave of elves had more than a handful who might fit that mold. She was yet a young elf, not yet of 50 years of age when her people moved from the outer reaches of East Norden and closer to other civilized folk and races. They had become a bit Barbaric some said, but the recent growing closer to their Fey roots and their natural affinity to magic had a calming and civilizing effect on them. Most of them anyway. They numbered around a hundred by the time Nyana had become a warrior of her people, and a right good one at that. Protector. Guard. Hunter. Warrior. These were all titles people tagged her with. She had been there just over a year ago when the Priest trying to carve out an area of power for themselves, a land of the dead they had said, struck. Waves of undead moved on her settlement, and by the time they stopped coming, only thirty-seven elves lived. Who had sent them? Why? It was the priest. He had also hit a few other nearby small settlements composed of humans and dwarves, almost wiping both of those out as well. There was no time to meet, no time to plan, not time to ask for help. If they were to survive, someone had to go find this Priest of Osybus and quite simply kill him. Nyana went without question, without volunteering, following the trail the undead had left tracing it back to the Priest. She had simply said that if she wasn't back in three days, she had failed, and to send someone after her and she'd leave a trail. The priest wasn't exactly surprised, but he wasn't ready for her either. He was at a long forgotten burial mound from some long forgotten battle getting ready to raise more undead to send out. No words were spoken, no challenges, no acts of bravado. He knew as an elf where she had come from, and she knew by his robes and location that she was in the right place. There was just a slight pause before the fight began. He cast Necrotic bolts at her and summoned up a shadow creature to fight along with him. She went into a rage, causing her connection to Fey magic to invoke wild magical effects. For a full minute she was teleporting all over the burial mound, attacking, moving off, moving in and attacking. When her rage started to subside, she once more went into a rage, and each time she attacked for the next minute, bolts of magical light shot from her chest, slamming into the Priest. Getting desperate after she put down his shadow creature, and bleeding from many wounds, he tried to strike her with what she later came to learn was called a 'Soul Sword.' She raged again, and this time, her weapon began to glow magical and she was able to throw it even though it wasn't of the type. She kept her distance, and struck again and again, staying away from that nasty looking blade. It ended like it began, without words, without ceremony, just a final slitting of his throat to make sure he was dead. Unbeknownst to her, a Ranger from the human settlement had arrived and was scouting out the priest and the right way to best him when Nyana showed up and went into action. It was a good thing too as she was close to death herself when it was over, so the bit of healing he had may have saved her life. It would be this Ranger who later told the tale and it spread like wildfire. She became known as the 'War Maiden of Myvehone', which happened to be the name of the long forgotten battlefield - Myvehone. It was quickly decided by her Enclave that she should go and stand against the darkness and make a name for the Elves and show that they haven't gone quietly into the night. They are still very much alive and capable. And there will be no mercy on the evil that gets in their way - okay, that last part is from Nyana, and she has been told to tone it down a bit, but being far from home, who is going to tell her any different?

[1Skell]

Audun Völgr Character Sheet: https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/115849970 Race: Custom lineage (modified human) Class: Ranger (Green Reaper) Uncommon Item of Choice: Longbow +1 200gp usage: 4 healing potions. Background: Outlander (Grim Hollow version) Personality Traits: 1 - I am always calm, no matter what the situation. I never raise my voice or let my emotions control me. 2 - I would rather make a new friend than a new enemy. Ideal: Respect. All people, rich or poor, deserve respect. Bond: Those who fight beside me are those worth dying for. Flaw: I judge others harshly, and myself even more severely. Appearance: Audun is a broad shouldered man of short dirty blond hair, pale white skin and pale green eyes. His face is chiselled and gaunt, his neck is long. The ranger usually dresses into brown leather armor over a green tunic and black pants. The hands are covered by leather gloves and the feet by leather boots, all brown. Over the armor he also wears a hooded green cape, already worn by time and weather. Audun likes to have it double down as a blanket during his sleep. Background:   Backstory Before tradition, before glory and the sagas, before duty, comes need. One cannot live in the land of Thrull. One can only survive and by taking what is needed from other places. That is why Valikan children turn into adults by becoming raiders. It was no different for Audun. Born a free man in Tyburn, his maiden incursion was at thirteen. Gifted with the bow he gained distinction for sniping troublesome enemies mid battle. His greatest reward came after three years, in the form of an indication to the closest Ranger Conclave – that of Green Reapers. Hungry for strength, the Völgr willingly took part on druid’s experiments to create enhanced soldiers. For two years he was injected with pathogens and poisons, fed alchemical compounds, subjected to rituals fueled by nature magic. In the end it made him more agile, his eyes gained the ability to see in dim light and his movements became more precise. To the point that he could land projectiles from as far as the bow itself could reach and without losing accuracy. Half and three-quarters cover became easy to ignore and if he delayed his shots he could increase their potency, albeit such attacks were harder to land. All of that was not enough to save him from defeat. It happened on a raid to Nordenland. After putting two or three coastal villages to the torch, the crew was met by imperial troops. Outnumbered three to one, the Valikan resistance was a vain effort. Mid-battle, Audun was thrown overboard by some sort of spell and fell unconscious into the sea. He woke days later inside a cottage. His first thought was to get up and run away, but as he attempted to do so pain froze his body and the world span. Too wounded and too weak he could do nothing but lay in bed until his benefactors appeared. They were a family of four – husband, wife and two daughters. Their community followed the teachings of Miklas and because of that decided to nurture him back to health after finding him half dead by the shore. At first the ranger intended to bid his time until he could return home, but the warmth of that folk slowly changed his mind. They asked nothing for their help, not even his tale. They treated him with kindness and he knew that if the Bürach had failed to stop his crew that village would have been sacked, its inhabitants killed or enslaved. These thoughts birthed shame and the shame made him realize the error of his ways. The Völgr could not go back into being a raider and decided to stay in the village. Far from a skilled fisher, Audun started as a common huntsman. The presence of monsters and the rewards for taking them down led him to become a hunter – a defender against the horrors of the dark. Most of his gains he donates to those who saved his life, a small portion he uses to prepare for the battles to come.

[AlphaZ]

Click portrait for sheet Name: Father Edmond Reaves Race: Dhampir (Human) Class: Cleric (Death) Background: Haunted Item: Magic Holy Symbol Personality Traits: 1) I don’t talk about the thing that torments me. I’d rather not burden others with my curse. 2) I expect danger around every corner. Ideal: Greater Good. I kill monsters to make the world a safer place, and to exorcise my own demons. (Good) Bond: There’s evil in me, I can feel it. It must never be set free. Flaw: I talk to spirits that no one else can see. Appearance: Messy black hair with a short-trimmed mustache and beard framing a face lined with hard living and restless worry. Soft leather cloak and worn cotton shirt adorned with rings and baubles with religious or superstitious meaning. Dark eyes and ashen hands often kept concealed beneath a hood and gloves. ~Background~ "I was the son of a vampire. He visited me once, when I was young, and promised to return and make me like him. I've been running from that ever since. I only wanted to be normal, to be safe, to be good. But I'm not normal; Not human; Not safe; And, I fear, my very nature begs me not to be good. What could I do? Nothing in my mortal power, and the gods were dead or silent. I was doomed. But I found this amulet. It speaks to me, in a voice I don't know, of a god I cannot name. I pray to this god, through the amulet, and it answers me. In this I find hope. As I said, I do not know this god's name, nor to whom I truly pray, but they bless me. Yet even this blessing is tainted with the necrotic power I sought to escape. But I have come to understand that Death, as it is, can be a blessing. I can preserve life by bringing death to monsters; I can give death to those who might be cursed with undeath; perhaps someday Death may even help me escape my father's promise. I was the son of a vampire. But now I am more; I am a protector. Though driven from my home by those who discovered my curse, I will use it to bring hope. I may be a monster, but I will not be the monster they feared I am, nor that my father wishes me to be, nor that destiny tries to make of me; I will be more. I will be good."

[Kshnik]

Character App Name: Teric Clearspark Race: Halfling: Mark of Healing Class and subclass: Ranger 1, Sorcerer (Haunted) 1, Warlock (First Vampire) 1 Ranger to 5 and then Sorcerer onward. Maybe Warlock to 2. Background: Investigator 2 personality traits: Live each day like it is my last. I face problems head-on. A simple, direct solution is the best path to success. Ideal: The path to power and self-improvement is through knowledge. Bond: I would still lay down my life for the people I served with. flaw: Forms friends quickly but ends them when they are no longer useful. Appearance:   Appearance He has a triangle shaped face with angular cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a wide thin forehead. His movements are strong and simple, yet he has almost a dancer’s touch to his gait; which comes in the form of a slight hop. He wears dark blue common clothes along with a hooded cloak. His outfit also includes a small webbed vest made of several pouches and straps, cut thin, made from a flexible leather. On his forearms and thighs are sheaths, created from the leather of bats, containing darts, wooden and iron spikes. His hands and nimble fingers are covered by supple sharkskin gloves. On his hip is a wide belt, put together from multiple types of leather stripped from lizards, that supports a small pouch, two quivers, sprouting colorful fletching of arrows, and a few thick pouches. Peeking out over his right shoulder is an unstrung bow. Quick release straps run from his back over his shoulders and under his arms supporting a backpack loaded with supplies and equipment. Backstory: include why you became a hunter:   Backstory   Investigator He grew up in a crowded house, made even more crowded by the extensive amount of books his family had collected. His grandparents and parents were seen as sages, investigators, and problem solvers within the city This activity, this work, was integrated into him and his siblings as they grew from infants to adults. He still holds onto a trinket, a nightcap, from one of the first cases he helped solve. Lately he has been wearing the nightcap to sleep as it provides pleasant dreams; a shield against… something.   Ranger Unterland requires two years in the military. His training path went that of a ranger as he gained experience with logistics and tactics. His knowledge of nature became extensive but tracking was something he could never quite grasp so always made sure he partnered up with a good tracker.   Sorcerer Magic was in his family and he was delighted when his emerged; Mainly elemental and illusion in nature. Yet something he has never really had a chance to explore, though he hopes to, since it arrived a year into his military service.   Warlock He extended his tour in the military. He was stationed on the borders of the Ostoyan and took part in many guerrilla tactics against opposing military sites. He went out on a scouting mission at dusk and then he woke up, in the early morning, within his Underland military barracks and found out he had lost weeks of time. He was unable to explain the time and was discharged from service. He soon discovered that he had some new magic abilities. He is now nervous, no, scared, over how he had received them.   Hunter His family business, military work and recent discharge has recently led him on a search for a profession. He had gone back home to help his family; he was not satisfied. He took on other jobs; all of which could not hold his attention. One job led to the application on becoming a Hunter. He found he excels and enjoys it. It is now his full occupation.

[Paragon]

CHARACTER Name: Katherine Elias Race: Half-Elf Half-Human Class: Bard: College of Glamour Background: Entertainer Personality Traits: Deeply cares for her family, bonds, and ideals; secretly hedonistic in her thoughts and quest for an “ideal world”; can be shallow, impulsive, and unreliable; greatly invested in proving herself and in showing that she can protect those she cares for. Torn between the values of tradition and a strict disciplined mind, and her idealistic fantasies. 1) I change my mood or my mind as quickly as I change key in a song. 2) I'll settle for nothing less than perfection. Ideal: Beauty: When I perform, I make the world a better place. (Good) Bond: My instrument is my most treasured possession, and it reminds me of someone I love. Flaw: Despite my best efforts, I am unreliable to my friends. Item: Pipes of Haunting Appearance: Katherine has long, straight black hair with hazel eyes and a slight build, which she disguises through her colourful dress - the mark of an entertainer, drawing the attention to what she wishes to be seen, inviting you to listen to her story, instead of seeing the reality of what is naturally there. She clutches her sacred Pipes of Haunting close to her chest, hidden within a secret pocket of the flamboyant cloak she is known to wear: her greatest tie to her family, homeland, and upbringing - the ultimate reminder of why she chases her ideals. ~Background~ Born to a family in a small village in Unterland, where newcomers rarely came and old-timers even more rarely left, Katherine was raised with the ideal of a practical, down-to-earth way of life - to defend, protect, and do right by your family name, your neighbors, and ultimately, your clan. Unfortunately, Katherine was born too impulsive and hedonistic for her own good, and along with her slight frame and lack of natural physical strength, was not well suited for a life of discipline, structure, and honest labor; although she desperately tried to suppress her feelings and obtain satisfaction from a grounded life - to find value in the virtues of tradition - she struggled to fulfill the exacting expectations of her family and village. She faced unyielding criticism on how she worked, how she dressed, and even how she made small talk with the neighbors. She often wondered if she had no talents at all. Her only solace was her paternal grandmother's house, which she would often visit for a hot meal and companionship at the end of a long day's work: the only place she felt some fellowship. One night, after recounting a particularly challenging day, her grandmother gave her a mysterious look and told her to stay there, and that she had something that might lift Katherine's spirits. Her grandmother proceeded to introduce her to the flute, staying up all night teaching her old tribal songs that had been long forgotten by time - and found herself enraptured by how the notes came to life, the vision of her ideas, her stories, her thoughts illuminated through the light ethereal tones of the instrument, and how, most importantly, it came so naturally to her. She began staying up every night after that, rehearsing over and over, sometimes with her grandmother and other times alone, until it was perfect. In contrast, her daytime work suffered even more, her body weakened further from exhaustion. On one of those many sleepless nights, a stray kobold wandered into her village near where her family resided, where Katherine, frightened as she was, found herself bolstered by the duty she knew she would eventually be called upon to perform: to protect the only home she had ever known. Before she could even reach for her spear, she realised that the monster was frozen in awe from her music. For the first time, Katherine felt a surging sense of pride - she could still be a respectable member of her society, and so she eagerly ran to tell her family of her newfound abilities. To her dismay, she received only a reprimand for being so careless and forgetful as to let a kobold loose. However, as she recounted her tale to her fellow villagers, she was granted a second gift in the form of knowledge: she was an entrancing storyteller, with more talent in expressing her art through words than through song. Eventually, she found broader acclaim, with even the most stoic villagers appreciating the way she could make lines on a page come to life through her masterful wordplay and expressive delivery. In this, Katherine found her purpose - she could still contribute to her village and protect her neighbors, albeit in an unconventional manner, through her craft. She worked tirelessly, plagued by the echoes of her upbringing and its whispers that she, as an entertainer and storyteller, would always lack the required usefulness, effectiveness, and pragmatism required for living a favorable and virtuous life. When she was 16, Katherine was sent as an apprentice to the College of Glamour to perfect her craft and grow her talents, under the condition that she would use her talents to fill her expected role. This made her painfully aware that despite the acclaim and support she had worked hard to receive, her family feared who she might become: someone weak, lazy, egotistical, gorged on luxury and applause, someone who forgot the virtues of a day’s honest work. This made it all the more surprising that her father was insistent upon accompanying her on her journey, marking the first, and only, time in his life he would ever step foot outside of their small village. As a parting gift, he presented her with a magical flute as a symbol to remind her to tell a story that was meaningful, representing the first time she ever truly felt accepted. Katherine was consumed by her studies, enamored by tales of realms such as the Feywild - where every sense was heightened, where life is more vibrant than she could possibly imagine. Those exquisite years passed all too quickly, and after completing her education, she was reluctant to return to her “normal life”, only driven back by an unrelenting sense of duty and the overwhelming fear of disappointing her family. When her village was attacked by monsters, she attempted to fight back using the skills she had so diligently cultivated, only to find the monsters immune to her charms. Only capable of standing by and helplessly watching as a neighbor, a strong, stocky boy she’d grown up with, slayed them using his superior strength and combat abilities, Katherine suffered a crushing sense of guilt that was only enhanced by the shaming remarks given by her village. She was terrified that she truly was everything she had tried so hard not to be - weak, helpless, unable to protect, with talents and morals only good for times of prosperity. In an attempt to overcome these swelling fears, she set off on a journey to prove herself, to discover the mystical lands of higher knowledge hinted at by the legends told from her studies - where she could become a storyteller capable not only of charm and rapture, but of being so enthralling she could rewrite the very threads of life itself. She would finally use her talent to make something of herself, to make her lofty ideals a reality, to become someone worthy of her family - someone who can fight and defend. Her first stop on her journey is the new town of Black Hold, answering a summons by the lord of the town, promising everything she needs for her new life.

[voodoozombie]

Lady Ilona Justina de Imith the 6th Lady Ilona Justina de Imith the 6th Name:Lady Ilona Justina de Imith the 6th. Race: Dhampir (Human) Class and subclass: Warlock. The First Vampire (GH). (Pact of the Blade) Background: Pox Touched Noble (GH) Personality Traits: 1) Despite my noble birth, I do not place myself above other folk. We all have the same blood. 2) I have come to deeply respect the work of alchemists and potion - makers of the world. Ideal: We should be judged for how we treat the powerless not the powerful. Bond: I owe my life to the itinerant healer who healed me Flaw: I hide a truly scandalous secret that could ruin my family forever.   Soft spoken, graceful and elegant in behavior, Ilona is every bit a noble through and through. She walks with confidence, measured steps with her head held high. Even though she is a hunter, Ilona still maintains her habits of always of showing others that she is of noble birth. She dresses in the best clothing and armor that she can afford and is always well groomed and clean whenever possible. Her red hair is long with a silken sheen to it, her green eyes bright and her skin is flawless, except for the scaring on both of her arms and down her back due to the Weeping Pox. She favors red and black colors, with the occasional splash of contrasting color to break up the otherwise dark, two-tone colors of her outfits and leather armor. When she hunts, she becomes a predator, stalking and hunting down her prey. Once she catches her prey Ilona drains away their life energy by using her two slightly oversized canine teeth or their life force using other means at her disposal. She also hungers for flesh or raw meat. She knows what she is and fully embraces this along with being proud of who she is and where she came from. Ilona is also social towards others and enjoys talking and getting to know the people around her. She is also polite and respectful in both manners and in speech. When working with others, regardless of their social rank, she will always have their backs.   Ilona is 6th and youngest child of Lord and Lady of House Imith, a minor noble house located in the city state of Liesech. At one time, House Imith was involved in the merchant trade of locally produced fabric dyes. Even though the Weeping Pox has left Liesech's economy in ruins and has killed uncountable numbers of people, House Imith still stands. Despite the quarantine imposed by the Bürach Empire the House now produces hunters in order to survive. If one knows the right people and with the right amount coin, anything, including people, can find ways in and out from Liesech. Ilona was raised and brought up as a proper noble, learning the social skills and education that are expected of nobles. At the same time, Ilona did not lead a sheltered life. She was allowed to freely play with both noble children and commoners alike. This instilled the ideal that everyone is the same, no matter what their social status is or the living they make. After all, it takes everyone working together that makes a city state like Liesech run and support its citizens. Then the Weeping Pox came, infecting thousands and killing almost as many. Ilona watched helpless as many of her friends died, one by one. Yet, by some strange twist of fate, her family had never been touched by the Weeping Pox until Ilona contracted it. And survived it thanks to a stranger that offered to heal her. She would also make a pact with the stranger. It was after she was cured that Ilona knew what she wanted to do. Follow in the new footsteps of House Imith and become a hunter herself. It was a way for her take action and do something instead of standing by helplessly as she had done when her friends started to die. Ilona was given a second chance, and she isn't going to let it go to waste. Ilona wishes to help and possibly save her homeland of Liesech any way she can. The city and its people welcomed House Imith when they first settled in the then newly formed city state. Ilona will do whatever is necessary to save it, including becoming a hunter to do so.

[Seekr34]

LOL two dhampirs. I almost was going to play one, but I been playing one so much, then I decided to give it a break and play something different

[Luezon]

Ira Elzhe, Hexblood Monk Original Illustration by Soberana Art Name: Ira Elzhe Race: Hexblood (Human Lineage) Class & Subclass: Monk (Way of Mercy) Background: Urchin Personality Trait #1: Wary. Raised to be fearful of the commonfolk, Ira has not fully escaped the unease instilled by his unusual upbringing. Though he seeks to be charitable, he is often distrustful of strangers who are especially reserved or particularly bold. Personality Trait #2: Observant. A life of watching others has trained Ira to be cognizant of the world around him. He has an eye for detail and a crisp memory, diligent and detail-oriented. Ideal: Honesty. Ira was born of trickery and raised on lies. It is a mercy that he stumbled into the truth and has grown to believe that in a grim world, deceit only darkens it further. Bond: Inextricably bound to his second mother Valeria, Ira is determined to hold her accountable for her manipulation of him throughout his youth. He also seeks to find a hunter he believes to be his estranged sister. Flaw: Coming from a sheltered, twisted upbringing, Ira is still learning how the wider world works. He is uncomfortable in bustling towns & environments, and is prone to social faux pas when put on the spot. Appearance: A gaunt young man with sallow features, Ira can pass as human at a quick glance. His dark hair is a tangle of curls and a trimmed beard accentuates his angular jaw, mostly covering a splotchy birthmark on his left cheek. His ears have a rounded point - not enough to be mistaken for elven - and are adorned with scattered piercings crafted from bone and wood. Look closer though, and in full daylight his skin bears a faint bluish hue. His shaggy black hair conceals two narrow curled horns that split to curve behind his ears and frame his forehead. Only one eye focuses - the left, a midnight blue. The right is concealed by a leather patch, but beneath it a false eye - purple iris, bloodshot and with a strange unnatural sheen. Some who've seen it say it twitches of its own accord when no-one is looking at it. Ira knows it does - it's not his own after all, and night hags aren't known to part with their eyes without their own purposes. Backstory:   Ira had two mothers. The first, a hunter of grim monsters. Of her, he knew only two things: her name, Elzhe, which he adopted as his own later in life, and her reputation as the only person to ever trick his second mother, the night hag Mother Valeria. According to his second mother, Elzhe treated with Valeria wherein her side of the bargain involved giving up her own child to the hag. Valeria never told Ira the details of that deal, save for the fact that she was given a delicious baby girl, perfect clay from which to mold a hag's daughter, only to then -somehow - give birth to grubby little boy. Through his gestation, Ira gained many of the traits of hag's hexed blood, but he would never be able to join his second mother's coven. But now Valeria had a trick of her own, a special game none of her sisters across the Nordenland could ever dream of playing. The townsfolk of the villages may have grown wary of the hedge-witches through the propagation of their folk tales. But no poor soul was out there wary of a hag's son, for such a thing was never even imagined in their limited dreams - and Mother Valeria knew dreams. Such was Ira's bleak childhood. She filled his head with fear and distrust of the villagefolk - they were all so sad and lost, and if they ever caught him and learned who he was, they had filled whole books with ways to kill witches. So he had to keep watch. Vigilance, she'd warned him, was their best defense. She needed to know which of the villagefolk were most nervous and frightened and anxious, or most angry and bold and confident. Both sides of the coin were dangerous - neither would show mercy. But most of all, to keep watch for witchhunters and monster-killers passing through. His first memory was pain as Valeria removed his right eye to replace it with one of her own making. From that day on, she sent him into the village in urchin's rags to watch the marketplace. He was almost of age when he spotted a group of travellers arriving in town, silvered weapons by their sides. It was not the first band of hunters he'd seen - but one of them caught his eye. A young woman, about his age. Dark hair, midnight blue eyes. A birthmark on her cheek - the same size and shape as his. He didn't know who she was, but Mother Valeria's eye stayed trained on her even as he tried to leave. Then the girl looked his way. She saw him and all his second mother's warnings flooded into him of the merciless nature of hunters, and he turned and fled. That was the first and last time Ira saw his sister. When he returned home to Mother Valeria's cottage, she'd already packed him a bag. She tasked him with a simple job - find his sister, and his first mother if she still lived, and bring them home. When he returned to the village, seeking out his sister, he learned she and her party had already moved on. Over the weeks that followed, they didn't return, but when another band passed through, he realised an opportunity - if he was to hunt down a hunter, he'd best become one himself. That was four years ago. In his time travelling with monster hunters across Etharis, he learned much of the nature of dark fey and the lies his second mother had told him. He learned that villagefolk were far from the cruel creatures he'd believed them to be - they were just scared of the horrors at their gates. He learned to show them care and kindness and mercy where he had once only seen danger. He renounced his Mother Valeria, and had tried to destroy her eye, but it always grew back and so he concealed it beneath a patch. He also learned of the reputation of his mother Elzhe and her death many years ago, but none he spoke to knew of the girl with the birthmark that matched his. He still seeks his sister as his Mother Valeria requested, and he will bring her home - but it will not be for a hag's happily ever after.

Ira Elzhe | Character Sheet Link